The great artist

Change is constant, nothing but an illusion. Nature's way of finding a balance between two different realities. Possibility and reality itself. For some, it takes a minute to decide not to ever succumb to the illustrations of change, while for some, much more than that. For Jonathan Conrad, as people have grown to call him, it took 20 good years.

Dawn was now upon them, the very fresh beginning of August. Young and beautiful. Jonathan has spent the whole summer giving people what he felt they needed the most. Art. Ten years ago, when Jonathan left Prague and came to this great Citadel in Southern Italy, he'd been skeptical about the choice. Sure, he wanted the experience of returning home, but he wondered if it was the right time. The thirst for true Art is usually a dark lonely road that few embark on. He was one of those few who chose that path.

While he was in Prague, he met many interesting people. A decade being what it is, Jonathan had been much younger and more vibrant. He knew that in body and mind. Now that he is much older, he knows he can no longer live on the road. Yet, more than that, he felt that if his life ever ended, he would want it to be at home.

And so, 10 years to this day, in August, he left Prague and came to the small town near Monopoli, where he was born. The people in the town all recognized him. How could they not? He is easily one of the most famous artists alive. Even though the youngsters were mere babies, some unborn when he left years ago, they still knew that a celebrity had come to settle in their town. So, he did what most celebrities would do. He pulls up a massive mansion in the town like never seen before. There he intends to live the rest of his years, never to touch the brush again. To him, there is nothing left to paint.

Unfortunately, most of his childhood friends had also left the town, and not a lot turned out to be stinkingly rich like he is enough to retire in their early fifties and never have to work again. But he sure knows it doesn't make their life less fulfilling.

Despite his challenges in fitting into the small town again, Jonathan was certain he wanted to spend the rest of his life there. It only required an extra push. A couple of memories here and there, and it would feel like home again. Except, of course, he didn't live in a mansion then.

In Prague, he nursed the idea of starting an Art school because he felt the Cosmos wanted him to impart Art. But that idea was always cut short by his vibrant state and inability to stay in a place. Nevertheless, even in Prague, he did teach a great number of people. From friends here and there to clients and many more. Perhaps to the point where he decided to stop and not teach another soul.

During his early years in Prague, he'd met a man that was like a father to him. A father he never had. Aquarius was his name. He'd taken him in, clothed, and fed him. Aquarius was an artist. He majored in sculpting and was incredibly famous for it. Simply by observation, Jonathan learned Art, and he became an artist.

Aquarius believed in letting a man choose for himself, so when Jonathan came of age, he let him follow his path. Even if that wasn't clear to Jonathan at the time. Aquarius sponsored him to college in the United States, where Jonathan majored further in Arts. With the right connections immediately after college, Jonathan painted a piece that became a worldwide sensation, and he instantly became famous with a sudden wealth to match.

Rumor had it that he had to leave everything behind, including his friends. Everyone to bear the burden of fame. He toured the entire world with his Art, including Africa. His name became one that remained on the lips of every human with a passive or aggressive interest in Art.

"Jonathan?" a voice says from the door, breaking Jonathan's thoughts.

He stands up and walks to the door. The person standing there is none other than Abigail, the older woman who has just retired from being his maid. The only woman who probably knows more about him than anyone else in the world.

Abigail is three days away from turning 80 but doesn't look it. Not one bit. She has been his Nanny for as long as he can remember.

He hasn't always been rich, but his parents made a decent living. Nanny Abigail, at the time, was more family than his parents ever were, so he looked for her after college when he became famous. She agrees to be his maid and has been so for many years. Considering how important Abigail is to him, it's no surprise he decided to take her granddaughter Chloe, as his goddaughter. It is the least he could do.

When he moved back to Italy, she came with him with the condition that Chloe would tag along. According to her, she may be in her final days and intends to spend every bit of it with her 'little one.' The idea didn't seem so bad to Jonathan. After all, he is her god daughter as well.

He wonders if Chloe could settle in a small town in Italy. After all, she'd been in America all her life. He'd taken the liberty to visit her several times, but that was it. His life has not been the easiest in the sense that he is ever busy until now.

Abigail recently explained to him, followed by her resignation, that her health is deteriorating and, unfortunately, she cannot attend to him anymore. Those words were like knives to his chest. They tore in deep, but considering he was getting older, too, he understood. He knows she cannot stay with him forever. But then, who can understand him the way she does? Who could make him that delicious cup of tea the way she does? Those are Jonathan's fears.

He, for one, has never embraced change, especially when it comes in a wildly uncomfortable way. True, he understands that the world is evolving, but change was never welcome at the time, especially in small towns where the old wells and writings on the wall never change. But this isn't about that, and this isn't about who grows a beard and when. It isn't about any physical change at all.

The toughest thing to change is the human mind, but it is the only important change that can ever occur. It has taken him a long while to get here, and whether people accept it or not, it is all thanks to his principles, discipline, and consistency. Not embracing change does not mean weakness. It means strength.

So, yes, he has been deliberately declining all of Abigail's replacements as his maid. He has the right. Of course, there are other maids tending to his mansion, but the one allowed to interact with him on such a personal level has to be someone Abigail can vouch for. One she trusts.

'Jonathan Conrad, Master Conrad, they would say. A name that had now become a symbol of Achievement in the small town. He'd been called to council several times to settle disputes. He'd received several invitations to participate in politics and exhibitions but never honored any of them. At this point, he wants to live outside of the media. That is what a true retirement is.

'Jon, you look awful,' Abigail said when the door opened.

'And you look beautiful,' Jonathan said to the old woman. Only she could call him that.

He'd been called Jon throughout his childhood and a small part of his adolescence. Until he met Aquarius in Prague. There, Aquarius called him a son. He called him Jonathan when he had to, but name-calling never mattered to Aquarius. Nothing else but Art.

When Aquarius died, he'd mourned him for over a year. During those times, he'd made countless sculptures of himself till the pain deserted. Aquarius was unmarried, so he left everything he had for him. His house, his art shop, his sculptures, everything. It wasn't worth a ton of money, but it certainly was enough to sponsor him through college overseas.

Jonathan stayed out of loyalty for years and furthered Aquarius' legacy. He did this for long enough to know that Aquarius finally wanted him to be his own man. From the art studio, he'd met several people who came to purchase Art in search of tranquility. That was the first platform Jonathan used to teach.

At some point, people began to come without intending to purchase Art but rather to learn.

A young girl had asked him how he became so skilled without a formal education. He laughed at her question till he saw that others were curious. He explained that he did everything Aquarius did.

"So, how did you meet Aquarius" one had asked.

To Jonathan, he believes the universe brought him to Aquarius. He wouldn't go as far as to say that he is spiritual, but the circumstance was quite peculiar. It was during one of Aquarius's public art exhibitions. Jonathan was so mesmerized that he mistakenly broke a statue during the display. For some reason, the broken art piece became a masterpiece and, according to Aquarius, the most expensive art piece he'd ever sold. Aquarius had taken young Jonathan with him and never let him go.

Abigail watches Jonathan, lost in his thoughts. She puts a teapot in her bag and pours some for him. He looks at her, finally registering her presence, and smiles. He takes the filled cup and sips from the hot tea. It has his favorite Cinnamon flavor, how he likes it.

Jonathan leans to the side of the chair and watches the older woman fidget with the contents of her bag.

"So, what brings you here, Abigail? Do you want your job back?" Jonathan asks with a playful smile.

She looks up from her busy state and pulls out a piece of paper simultaneously. She looks engrossed and a bit excited. Something Jonathan hasn't seen in a while.

'Read this for me, will you' Abigail asks, her voice shaky from age.

Jonathan collects the paper and walks to his desk. He draws the curtain aside and brings the paper to light. He scans through the content but can barely see a thing. All he could make out was a few wards. The texts are way too small. He feels embarrassed and looks at Abigail. Aware of what she is driving at.

"Now, when was the last time you read or drew?" Abigail says, with a bit of mockery in her tone.

Jonathan says nothing. He walks back to his seat. A tin smile has formed on his face.

"I've read and drawn more than I'll ever need, Abigail," Jonathan defends.

"The world is changing, Jonathan, and whether you like it or not, you're an artist. The only time an artist drops his brush is when he dies," Abigail says.

Jonathan is silent. He knew she was right. The truth is, he's not in denial that he is getting old. The years have been kind, so he doesn't look it, but Jonathan had surely lived two third of his life. He'd become tired in Prague, and when he came here, he was sure he had neared his end. Still, it's been ten years, and he feels the same way he felt the first day he stepped into the town.

"So what do you want me to do, Abigail?" Jonathan asks.

"The same thing I've wanted you to do for the past couple of months, Jonathan, get a maid!" Abigail says, tracing the outline of his face with her eyes.

Jonathan scoffs softly. He knows it's much-needed assistance, but there is no way he will allow anyone to snoop through his stuff. The same reason why he doesn't have a dog or a cat. He feels he can handle these things himself. How hard can boiling a cup of tea or reading a few lines of books before dinner be? Nevertheless, Abigail has a point.

"So, your goddaughter recommended a lady. About her age, even younger. She's her best friend, and I think you'll like her very much," Abigail says.